


let's stand where the sun can't see

by the_inner_darkness



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Crying, Drinking, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Depression, References to Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-19 02:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20649872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_inner_darkness/pseuds/the_inner_darkness
Summary: I wonder what it was like for you in the last few moments. I wonder if you had looked for a suit to be put on you when they locked you away forever.I wonder if you counted down the hours, like I did, and wished you had more.The hardest part is, you're not here anymore, yet you're everywhere.





	1. anywhere i would've followed you

January 13 

Iwa-chan made me start going to a therapist for a while. She gave me a journal to write my feelings in for the next month. She says it will make me feel better.

I don't see how I can feel better when you're not there.

I'm not sure whether this was supposed to be something where I write down what I do during the day. I'm not sure whether I should use this pen because it was is your favorite and I don't want to use something you rarely used. I'll change it now. This is much better, I think. Or maybe not. I don't know.

I'm not sure of much now.

Whether I'm supposed to use this as a personal diary or catalog of what is left of my life or not, I think I'll just pretend that I'm talking to you. When I told the therapist that, she looked at me weirdly.

I didn't think people who were paid to listen did that.

You were never paid to listen to me. We were never nice to eachother at first but eventually you started listening to me. You were never paid to listen but you still did. You never looked at me like that, just looked at me like I was the only other person in that moment. I miss that, so very much. I remember how you would take off your glasses, the ones you didn't really need but wore anyway, and you would look at me. People aren't supposed to be able to see well without glasses but when you took them off it felt like those deep blue eyes of yours were seeing through my soul.

It felt like there was a storm inside you, and I wanted to be destroyed by it.

I miss you. I miss everything.

I wonder what it was like for you in the last few moments. I wonder if you had looked for a suit to be put on you when they locked you away forever.

I wonder if you counted down the hours, like I did, and wished you had more.

The hardest part is, you're not here anymore, yet you're everywhere.

It's only been a day and it doesn't feel real yet. It feels like you went back to Miyagi to meet your parents, that's why there's still milk in the fridge and the sheets are still rumpled. That's why you weren't in bed last night and I couldn't smell coffee in the morning as I woke up.

Maybe when I wake up tomorrow, it'll be true.

Except even though you are in Miyagi, you’re not hugging your parents and telling them stories about home. You're not laughing with your sister or having milk-chugging contests with your brother. You aren't eating your mom's delicious turkey and she's not fussing over you not eating enough.

It's sad to think that she never will fuss over you again, Tobio.

Everyone looked at me today like I was a fragile thing teetering over the edge of breaking, but I just feel numb, like I got punched in the gut but my brain isn't ready to process it so it's holding it off. All I seem to hear are those violin vibratos and piano chords of those songs you always put on the speakers. All I seem to see is inky black hair and shocking blue eyes and the genuine smile that was rare, but so incredibly beautiful.

Every time you smiled, it felt like the world got brighter, and the moon has more motivation to glow, the stars had more motivation to shine.

Maybe I can pretend to write you a sappy love letter which I will leave on the nightstand and you will read it when you come back from visiting your parents. But I don't know what I can tell myself when you don't come home tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that.

I know I'll see you this weekend for sure. That's when the funeral is.

I don't want to go. I don't want to go to a stuffy church where the dust has no destination but my lungs, and it'll get in my eyes and that's exactly what I'll blame when I start crying. I don't want to go see you in a wooden box, dressed in a suit and I know that the first thought when I see you is that god, you look so beautiful. It's always been my first thought when I saw you. But it won't be the same this time. You won't be able to slide your eyes away when I say it, you won't be able to hide your warm face in my neck and I can't run a hand down your back. I can't. You can't. We can't.  
  
I think I'm going to stop here.

  


January 16 

This is hard. I've never been a writer. Except for the occasional "I love you" on cards in the bouquets I got you to brighten up the hospital room.

I didn't need flowers to brighten up a place which was already too bright because you were there. You'd always tell me how I shouldn't have wasted my time on something that's going to die but I never regretted it. I never regretted you.

Your funeral is about to start and I'm still in the car. I don't know why I haven't gotten out. And I don't know why I still feel numb. It all feels fake, feels surreal, feels like you will reach over from the backseat and slap the back of my head.

The church in front of me should be as good as a sign as any that it isn't going to happen.   
  
I can see your family pulling in a few spots over. I'm not going to watch them get out. They're going to look like you, they're going to remind me of you and I don't think I can handle that. I'm just going to look at this paper, and I won't look up.

None of this feels right. My face is starting to get warm and now I'm biting my lip and I'm scared, I'm so scared. Tobio, I don't want the numbness to go away. I don't want to miss you. I sound like such a bad person right now, but I don't want to realize that you're never coming back, I need you alive because everything will come crashing down. Maybe it has and I'm too busy pushing away the destruction to realize just what it is. No no no no no no no.  
  
I don't want any of this. I don't want anything. I just want you.

  


January 21 

The funeral passed and everything sank in. That's why I haven't written in five days. I haven't gone outside either. Iwa-chan brings me food but I don't feel like eating it. Everything is tasteless, or maybe that's just me. The world is in black and white now, because the light has now been taken away.

Iwa-chan forced me to start writing again, he thinks it might help me stay in control.

You kept me grounded and now I'm losing control. It usually happens when I look at the photograph of you on the mantelpiece. You looked so happy, Tobio. Red cheeks and healthy skin and bright eyes and the smallest curl of smiles, not the creepy ones you give Hinata, but the smile that I loved. It was an old picture and I didn't know why you were smiling, but I wanted to know, I wanted to know so desperately but it's too late to find out now. It was the type of smile where you looked like you're hiding a secret you'd take to the grave but Tobio I didn't want it to be this literal. It didn't look anything like you in your last few days. Your lips were chapped and I remember you asked me to get you a glass of water and your voice sounded like it hurt you to breathe and I hated it so much.

I remember you asking me to write a eulogy for you. I went home and as soon as I stepped through the door, I tripped over the shoes I took off and I didn't bother getting up, didn't want to move or think or function for that matter, and I remember how I wouldn't breathe for the longest time, thinking that maybe if I held my breath long enough, saved enough of it, then I could give it to you towards the end.

But I did it for you. I wrote the eulogy, because you wanted me to. I presented it yesterday too. I hope you watched, wherever you are. I hope you liked it. Because I didn't.

I miss you. I miss everything and my hand is cramping, and if you were here then I'm sure that your hand would be in place of the pencil and I want that.Tobio I don't want this piece of wood and graphite but I want you. I want you and your warm skin and the small scar on your palm from volleyball and the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn't looking back.

I was always looking at you.

Now I'm starting to cry, and I can't breathe and it's making me feel so mad because it makes me want to try to hold my breath and give it back to you.

  


January 22

I think I cried so hard last night that I got sick. I didn't know that was possible. If you were here then you'd punch my shoulder and tell me don't be stupid, dumbass, to take care of myself better, and you'd give me tissues and go make tea. I want that back. I hate to sound like a delirious idiot filled with redundancy but I think that's exactly what I am. I'm stupid and all I can do is repeat to myself what you would do if you were still here.

I went to visit you today, Tobio. Your gravestone is actually kind of pretty, like you were are. You're so pretty. I'm awful at descriptions. You even had to help me with my literature classes even though you're a couple of years younger. All I can say is that I could look at you all day, all week, all year, and all my life and I'd never want to blink.

But I went to visit you. And I brought columbines. You never did like flowers, like I said, but you did like columbines.

It's gonna be a habit, a ritual. I'll go see you every day and lay a columbine and spend some time with you. It won't compare to really being with you. You make things beautiful. And maybe even the wind on my cheeks when I'm crying won't feel right anymore.  
  
It hurts to breathe right now without you doing it with me.

  


January 24 

I went to your grave to see you yesterday, and I'm sitting on the grass next to you right now. I brought a columbine, and it's some twist of pink and red. Like your lips when we kissed a lot. I want to kiss you. I just want to touch your fingertips and I want to bring you close and I want to hear your breaths in my ear because you're just by my side. Why can't I have that?  
  
I want skin instead of a gravestone and I want to run my fingers through hair instead of grass and I want to put the flowers in your palm.   
  
I keep thinking of the first date we went on and I want to curl into myself and sleep for a few years. The best memories are the ones that are hurting now and I don't want it to be that way. I don't want bittersweet, I just want sweet. And I can't have everything I want, that was made painfully obvious twelve days ago.

We played some volleyball in your backyard and then went to get ice cream near the park and you found an eyelash on my cheek and I wished on it. Even though it was our first date I wished we could be together forever.

It didn't work. I guess not all wishes come true.

January 28 

I bought coffee on the way back from visiting you.   
  
The barista at the shop wrote her number on my cup and I feel so wrong inside. I threw it away, with the coffee still inside. That makes me a terrible person.

I'm sitting on the couch right now and I miss the way we'd have to almost wrestle in order to get in a cuddling position. Two guys trying to spoon and being over one-eighty centimeters isn't exactly easy. It was always worth the struggle. You were always worth the struggle. I miss you so much. It isn't even an emotion for me anymore, the longing. It feels like a characteristic now. I close my eyes and see you leaning into the breeze and I open them and you aren't there.   
  
I can talk about how much I want you and I can say your name over and over and I can hope that maybe when the last syllable is out, you'll be here and it'll be different.   
  
It won't do anything good for me though.   
  
I just want to be with you and I don't care about anything else. My mind is all over the place. Like train tracks that intersected at the wrong place. I try to tell a story and then I'm hit with this horrible feeling of you, and you and you and you, and I drop everything and all I can think about is midnight blue eyes.   
  
I guess a train track is intersecting again. When I was throwing my coffee away, I saw a baby crow sitting on a tree. It was trying to fly. It kept falling down but it didn't stop trying and that reminded me of how you always wanted to fly, even off the court.   
  
I ran back into the coffee shop to go to the bathroom and I cried.

January 30 

It just hit me that it's been over two weeks without you and I guess that just makes it more real.

I visited you yesterday, of course. But today, I didn't go alone.

Hinata came to visit me today, blubbering about how much he missed his best friend, and he said how pathetic it was that you bit the dust before he did. I don't know what it was with the whole pathetic thing but he wasn't in good shape either. He kept saying that you were supposed to win, and you were supposed to stay on the court the longest.

We spent the day just walking around the city. Pointing to places we've been with you. We walked with a gap right between us, a space for you to join in if you were there. It almost felt like you were. I took Hinata to buy columbines. We took them to your grave afterwards. He started quivering again and I finally got him to sit down. And we just looked at your gravestone. Sat there. Shoved the wind when it shoved us.

I cried too. But I don't think he saw it.

He looked like a puppy who just got left behind when its family moved away. Lost, utterly confused, sad. I didn't blame him.

When we stood up to leave, he started crying even harder. Salty tears spilling over amber eyes, and he just starts wailing about how he was going to be taller than you for once, but he never wanted it to be like this.

I don't think I've ever understood someone so well.

February 1 

I saw the high school team for the first time in a while today.

I think Iwaizumi finally got around to telling them. They saw me and didn't know what to do.

The captain with the beautiful smile and deadly serve became the ex-captain with the fake smile and the dead face. It's not only my face that's dead. I feel completely dead. There's not much to me left but physical form.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki slapped me on the back and then Yahaba hugged me. They all just formed this circle around me, like some sort of protective barrier.

"We know you loved him. He loved you too. A lot," was what Kindaichi said. You were his friend too, and he looked really torn up. While Yahaba hugged me, I just started sobbing in his arms, crying and weeping on the spot while they stood wondering what to do. When I stopped sniffling, Yahaba pulled away and just looked at me, like he was trying to figure something out. I hope he tells me when he finds out whatever it was. I don't think he will though.

Iwaizumi just stepped forward and his face was fond, and he had a sympathetic and sad expression and I know I must have been a mess for him to look at me that way.

"It was plain to anyone who even walked by that he cared for you. He really did, Oikawa. Don't forget that. Don't ever forget it."

It should have been a really uplifting gesture, should have picked up my head. But all I could understand was the word 'cared.' You cared. 

Past tense.

February 3

It's 5 am and I can't take this. I can't take it, Tobio.  
  
I forgot to visit you yesterday.   
  
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm so sorry.   
  
I just couldn't sleep last night. I couldn't sleep, couldn't sleep with that empty air pressed into my side where you should be. I couldn't sleep without you beside me, couldn't sleep without my arms around your waist and your head on my chest and I haven't been sleeping at all Tobio, can't sleep, can't eat, can't think and my head hurts so much right now. I couldn't sleep last night and that meant that as soon as it was around late morning, I dropped into this coma of fatigue and I didn't really sleep, more like passed out and I had nightmares and they were about losing you and as soon as I woke up I realized that it wasn't so make-believe anymore and I started crying all over again and Tobio, I'm a mess.   
  
I slept far until the night came and they close the cemetery at nine. But I couldn't help it, I got in the car and I drove to see you because I can't not visit you and I got to the gates and the guards stopped me and I'm standing there and there's a columbine in my hands and I can't really understand what's going on except I miss you, I miss you so. And I'm starting to get hysterical and the people who close the cemetery and stuff are looking really concerned and then I started crying, I'm really good at crying these days, and then I just kept thinking about helping your family gather all your things and I'm thinking about how you were buried in your favorite colors and then I'm a sobbing wreck in front of the gates.   
  
I couldn't get to you, Tobio. They wouldn't let me through.   
  
But I stood in front of the gates and even though they wouldn't let me through I stayed anyways just standing there with a columbine in my hands and my eyes on the sky and then I sat down on the ground because I felt the wind pushing through my lungs and I just looked up and I saw the moon and it hurt. The moon hurts to look at because you're always just like the moon, like it so much, in darkness you're all I see, and I leaned against the gates and I started thinking about how the stars don't come close to shining as bright as you do and I closed my eyes and my tears burned so bad against the wind that I didn't open them and I guess I fell asleep.   
  
That's why it's five in the morning and I'm writing. I'm still in front of the cemetery gates.   
  
I'll bring two columbines tomorrow to make up for yesterday.

February 7

I'm so tired.  
  
I don't even remember the last few steps I took.   
  
All I know is that my head is hurting and I have a hangover and it's at a time when no one should be awake.   
  
I don't know why I got drunk. Or maybe I do. I did it so I didn't have to think. Alcohol is supposed to make you feel the way you should when you don't have it.   
  
I just grabbed something from the fridge and when I realized that it wasn't water I didn't really care. I just kept going. And going. And then I'm falling to the bathroom floor and I promise that I saw you, Tobio. I swear I saw you and you looked like you were standing right in front of me and I just remembered how pretty you were. You've always just been so beautiful. But you were standing up and you were looking at me on the bathroom floor and you had to look down to see me and it made me feel scared and I'm sorry if I made you upset. But all I could think about was how good it felt to have those eyes on me again and to have that skin so so close. I started feeling sick, and my stomach hurt a lot. And I went over to the toilet and I was still on my knees and you held some pieces of hair from my face when I started to throw up and your fingers were so gentle.   
  
But then I turned around and you weren't there.   
  
And then I started to heave some more and I felt sick but nothing else came out.   
  
I'm not sure if this time it was from the alcohol.

February 9

This morning, I was actually disappointed. Because I woke up. I didn't want to. I'm sorry if you didn't want to hear that. Or read it. But I just really wish I hadn't woken up.  
  
I'm awful just to see. It's like all my strength is gone. I swear I hear something creak inside my chest every time I breathe.   
  
I can't stop thinking about when you were in the hospital towards the end and I tried to kiss you. You turned away, Tobio. Pressed your cheek into the pillow and made sure my lips couldn't get to yours. I felt like there was lightning in my toes and a hurricane in my head. I asked you why, and you said, "The hardest part of this is leaving you."   
  
My teeth are chattering now. I don't know why. It's really hot outside. My hands are always really cold too. You'd complain about it all the time, and I'd slip my hands under your shirt and touch your skin and you'd shout at me and try to turn but by then I had my arms around you and you turned around in my arms and all I had to do was pull you closer until our lips touched and it hurts so much, Tobio, I want you back so badly I don't want to do this anymore.   
  
Sometimes I wish it had been me who died.

  


February 12

The therapist says I don't have to write anymore. She says my month is up but I think it's an excuse because she's getting worried. I gave her my journal to read when she asked and she kept pulling her eyebrows together and her lips did that straight flat line that yours did when you were angry or worried.  
  
I don't care. I'm gonna keep writing. It's the only way I can feel like I've still got you.   
  
I'm sitting on the grass beside your grave right now and if I close my eyes and tilt my head I can smell you, smell the scent of vanilla bean and fresh wood that you always seemed to carry around. And if I turn my head to the left and squeeze my eyes shut even more, I can hear the way you'd laugh when I accidentally hit my head on a doorway that you'd ducked under. And if I lay down just right and really really think hard, I can feel you pressed into my side and I can feel the wind pushing us closer together.   
  
  
People say goodbye when they leave each other. I think you were asking to leave every time we said goodbye. Not leave me exactly, but leave the world. The doctors put your chest in pain and you were just sentenced to staying in bed all day. You couldn't do anything except breathe, and that was hard enough already. You were losing your will towards the end and every time I think of that, I feel like everything is falling from my body and I'm empty.   
  
Pretty soon, your breath was taken away. I hated it but I was there when it happened. People say that when someone dies, they look at peace and they look happy, and they're calm and sleeping. But when you died, your chest just stopped moving and the light behind your bright eyes went away and you sort of sank into the pillow and you just looked dead.

  
  
I still have the columbine in my hands. I'm setting it on your grave right now. I'm shaking and counting the syllables of your name and comparing them to my heartbeat.   
  
Just so you know, when I was saying goodbye that one day, I didn't want it to be true.

February 16

I went to the jewelry store today, Tobio.  
  
I picked out two rings. I never got to propose, you know. I always talked about it but we were cut short. So I went in today and chose them. They're just simple gold bands, no real big studs of gems or anything. But there actually is a small diamond embedded on the inside of them both. I like it. No one can see it, or know it's there, unless you're the one wearing it. It's something beautiful that you like to keep secret.   
  
Reminds me of you.   
  
When I was checking them out, the cashier smiled at me and asked, "For someone special?"   
  
I just nodded and said, "Very."   
  
You're more than 'very special' though.   
  
I'm going to go to your grave tomorrow and set one of the rings on your grave. I'll leave it there. It'll be yours, and yours only. No one else's. You're the only one I've ever wanted to marry. Even though you aren't here to give me an answer, my proposal is always gonna be yours.   
  
I don't think I'll ever have one for anyone else.

February 17

I'm in the car now.  
  
I'm in a suit too. It's not the same one that I wore to your funeral. It's a different one. I went and bought it yesterday when I was out for the rings. It's all black, and the button-down underneath is white. The suit jacket isn't buttoned and I'm not wearing a tie though. That makes it feel too serious.   
  
Like the rings, I didn't want to be too fancy.   
  
I can't wait to propose, Tobio. I'm going to look insane, on my knee and holding up a ring to a gravestone.   
  
But it's okay.   
  
I'm far past the point of caring what other people think.   
  
I have my ring on already. I think metal is supposed to be cold but I can't feel it. Maybe you're right. My hands are too cold all the time.   
  
I'm waiting at a stoplight right now on the street where I kissed you once. I've kissed you in a lot of places. I just wish I could do it right now. I really miss the way your lips would push back against mine and it always just felt so right. I don't think I'm ever going to kiss anyone again. I don't want to.   
  
Hold on. The people behind me are honking. I'll keep writing when I'm stopped again.

  


\--

  
Tobio, oh my god I was driving across the intersection and the ring box, I had the ring box on the dashboard. It started to slide because I was turning and it fell on the floor somewhere in the car.   
  
I'm stopped right now in the middle of the intersection. I don't care if this is dangerous, I need to find it.   
  
It's not under the passenger seat. I scratched my hand when I was reaching under it and I kept pushing around and it isn't there. It isn't in the space where you put your legs either.   
  
I'm starting to cry now. I'm leaned over in the seat and writing and I'm crying because I can't find the ring. Tobio, I lost the ring just like I lost you.   
  
I'm sorry.   
  
I hear everyone honking because I'm in the way of every direction but I can't care anymore. I just can't.   
  
Someone is holding the horn on their car and they won't let up but they wouldn't understand why I'm here in the first place. Their horn is getting louder and I don't understand why, because you can't turn the volume up on car horns. It's so loud it's like they're beside me, it sounds like they're getting closer and cl


	2. everything that you left behind became my everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobio couldn’t recall much about himself or his friends, but he knew he loved each and every one of them. Smiling, somehow he knew that it was time.
> 
> His eyes drifted shut and the last thing he heard was the heartbeat monitor flatline and someone shout his name.
> 
> Then he woke up in a field, looking up at the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYY EVERYONE I'M BACK WITH THIS SHITSTORM 
> 
> I cried so much while writing this. I'm sorry but I'm also not :D :D
> 
> PS: MissKiraBlue and I have been working on a story called "Don't Just Lie and Say It's Fine". You should go check it out :)
> 
> THIS HAS BEEN A WILD RIDE, I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT, ENJOY.

When Tobio opened his eyes, looking up into the blue sky with the warm sun shining on his skin, the first thing he did was cry. He curled up on his side, the emerald green grass tickling his cheek, and cried. He cried for his friends, who he left behind, for his mom, for his dad, for his sister, and his brother. He thought if Tooru , and the thought that he would not stare into his favorite set of brown eyes again made him cry harder. He also cried for all the volleyball games he would never play and all the places he would never see.

“It’s okay, Tobio, you can cry.”   
  
His blue eyes blinked open and he looked up from where he lay, meeting the bright eyes of his grandfather. “Grandpa?”   
  
“Welcome to the Afterlife. I’ve missed you so much,” His grandfather’s eyes held a bittersweet sadness as he opened his arms, hugging Tobio tightly, wiping away his tears. “I’m so sorry, Tobio.”   
  
Tobio sobbed into his arms. “I wasn’t ready to die yet. It’s not fair.”   
  
His grandfather pulled backwards and ran his hand fondly through Tobio’s hair. “It’s okay. You’ll see everyone again someday. But for now it’s just us.”   
  
“I’ll see them again? When?”   
  
“When they pass away,” His grandfather said sadly. “You’ll feel a tug in your chest, and if you come here, they’ll show up.”   
  
“Will I feel the tug for everyone?” Tobio asked, wiping his eyes.   
  
“For everyone you know.”   
  
The two sat next to each other in the field that went on and on for miles. He glanced at his grandfather’s arm and saw the words  _ Lung Cancer _ written in black ink. That’s how he had died. Tobio glanced down at his own arm.  _ Brain Cancer. _ Those two words would haunt him for eternity.

* * *

_ It was a beautiful winter night, the window open so Tobio could see the stars and feel the wind on his face. It was difficult to think. His thoughts were slow and sparse, but he knew he liked the feeling of the air rushing past his cheeks like he was a bird and it felt familiar but he couldn’t remember where he felt it before. _ __   
__   
_ His mother was sitting in a chair at the end of his bed with his sister in her lap, reading a story together. A tall man with brown hair and brown eyes-Tooru, his brain supplied- sat in one of the plastic chairs next to his bed and gripped his hand.  _ __   
__   
_ Tobio couldn’t recall much about himself or his friends, but he knew he loved each and every one of them. Smiling, somehow he knew that it was time. _ __   
_   
_ __ His eyes drifted shut and the last thing he heard was the heartbeat monitor flatline and someone shout his name.

  
  
  


Then he woke up in a field, looking up at the sky.

* * *

The Afterlife wasn’t too bad. He got terribly lonely, but he was able to meet a lot of his family. He found out that it did not matter what age a person died, they would appear in the Afterlife at the age they were happiest at. Tobio appeared the age he died, twenty-two, and would remain that way for eternity.   
  
He met his great grandfather for the first time who passed away at age ninety-six - the words  _ Natural Causes _ written on his arm - but his grandfather appeared at the ripe age of twenty-one.   
  
Tobio spent a lot of his time walking around the endless fields. It seemed like everyone had their own Afterlife, and to get to another’s Afterlife all you had to do was wish to see them. His grandfather spent a lot of time with his brother. The man had the words  _ Store Shooting _ on his arm.   
  
In the Afterlife, thinking about something would make it appear. Tobio had created a volleyball court only a little while after arriving. He would stand on the court holding a volleyball, craving the rush of a set, a point, a win again but he never played. It felt wrong without his team and without Tooru.

* * *

He heard someone calling him, and it sounded familiar. He looked around, but all he saw was the blue sky and a few trees. 

It sounded like Tooru. He sounded like he was in so much pain. 

_ I never wanted to hurt you. I'm so sorry.  _

He could see the beginning of a brown head appear in front of him, like a television screen. He looked at it suspiciously. 

He waited until the apparition finished appearing, and as he recognized the person, tears rolled down his cheeks. 

He extended a hand towards it, wanting to touch, to feel, to hear Tooru. 

Fate wasn't kind, he learned. 

He cried almost as hard as he did the first time he woke up in the afterlife. 

His grandfather explained to him that they were allowed to look at the life of only one person. No one knew how it happened; it could be a parent, a sibling, a significant other, a best friend, a teacher, a student, or even someone they met frequently at the grocery store.

_ It seems only fitting that it's him. _

His heart swelled, seeing beautiful brown hair and eyes, but sharp pain shot through his heart seeing the pain in those eyes. 

He watched Tooru go around the house, not eating, not drinking anything, not being able to sleep. 

He watched Tooru run his hands through his hair, sitting in his car outside the church where his funeral was going to happen, almost pulling it out, and wished it was him who was touching him. Tooru just looked down into the journal he was keeping. He saw his parents and siblings pull over a few spots away and get out of the car, heads bowed. His sister looked up and spotted Tooru’s car, and signaled to their mother, who merely shook her head regretfully, tears in her eyes.

His heart ached for causing them so much pain.

* * *

Tobio didn’t want to watch his funeral, but he did. His grandfather told him it would hurt him, that it would feel like his soul was being torn apart. 

_ That’s okay,  _ he had replied.  _ I already feel like that every day I spend without them. _

Tobio didn’t watch the ceremony. He did not raise his head as he heard his mother cry out for him, he didn’t raise his head when his father rubbed his face, trying to hold back tears. He did not raise his head even as he heard Tooru read his eulogy.

As Tooru’s knees buckled from the exhaustion of sleepless nights and he fell to the floor, Tobio still didn’t raise his head.

Tobio did not sleep that night.

He heard Tooru’s cries all night and cried with him. 

* * *

Tobio woke up and saw a pretty blue columbine resting on his palm. He saw Tooru sitting near his gravestone with tear tracks on his cheeks, seemingly asleep.

_ He’s not asleep. He hasn’t slept in days.  _

He noticed an eyelash near his nose and gently brought it away from his face. He wished for Tooru to be happy, to move on and get healed. 

He watched Tooru throw his cup of coffee away with a strange, unreadable look on his face. He watched him cry over the baby crow and get sick in the bathroom.

_ It didn't work. I guess not all wishes come true. _

Tobio watched, as a few days later, Tooru visited him again, but this time with Hinata. Hinata looked like a mess, blubbering about  _ how he missed his best friend.  _ He looked like a puppy who just got left behind when its family moved away. Lost, utterly confused, sad. 

They went to buy columbines. Tobio’s heart swelled, seeing two of the most important people to him comforting each other, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He heard Hinata wailing, and his heart shattered into a million pieces.

* * *

On February 3, Tobio was waiting for Tooru to visit him as always, but he saw him asleep on their sofa. He didn’t mind; as long as Tooru was getting better, he didn’t mind one day. He watched as Tooru woke up with a jolt, reaching around frantically and apologizing. 

His heart screamed  _ it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,  _ but all he could do was watch as Tooru ran to the graveyard, crying and shaking the locked gates. People around looked at him with sympathy as Tobio felt more tears roll down his cheeks.

_ I’ve gotten really good at crying these days. _

Tobio stayed up all night watching Tooru.

A couple of days later, Tobio could see Tooru walking around like a zombie, with sluggish steps and deadened eyes. He walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine, unknowing of his actions and brought it to his lips. Tobio cried yet again for Tooru, wishing that he had  _ one chance, please one chance to go down, to go home and see him one last time. _

The next thing he knew, he was standing in their bathroom, looking at Tooru sitting against the wall and crying his heart out. Tooru looked up at him, and seeming as if he could not believe his eyes, leaned over the toilet bowl and emptied his guts. Tobio kneeled down with his, brushing his hair from his face and rubbing his back soothingly. 

Tobio felt himself getting lighter, and thanked whichever deity he could think of in that moment.

* * *

A few days later, Tooru went to the jewelry store. Tobio brought his hands up to his face, not believing his eyes. He bought pretty golden rings and smiled at the cashier, but his eyes screamed  _ no no no. _

Tooru also bought a suit which was all black and the button-down underneath was white. He got in the car, starting it up, and put the ring box on the dashboard. He was still writing in his journal.

When he crossed an intersection, the ring box slid down the dashboard and under the seat. Tooru stopped the car and bent over to look for the ring box.

_ No, no, no, no, Tooru, stop it, this is dangerous, please don’t- _

Tobio saw a fast car approaching, and the driver realized and tried to apply the brakes. His eyes widened, and he clenched his fists, banging against  _ something but nothing at all,  _ screaming for Tooru to get up, to look, to see the car and move. 

As the car crashed into Tooru’s car, his soul split in half.

* * *

February 17

I woke up in a really bright place with emerald green grass and a sky so blue it resembled Tobio’s eyes. I can hear footsteps approaching me, and a hand is now in front of me. It had a golden band on it, much like the one I got for Tobio. I take the person’s hand, standing up. I turned to thank the person, and my eyes widened as tears spill over my waterline like sparkling rivers.

“Welcome home, Tooru,” my angel speaks as he embraces me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title for chapter 1 is from "Grand Escape" from Weathering With You, the new Makoto Shinkai movie.  
The chapter title for chapter 2 is from the OP of Given, a truly breathtaking anime.
> 
> MUAHAHAHA TELL ME WHAT Y'ALL THINK :D :D 
> 
> TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, I LOVE YOU ALL. HAVE A GREAT DAY.

**Author's Note:**

> MUAHAHAHA I SAW THE OPPORTUNITY AND I TOOK IT 
> 
> COME SCREAM AT ME


End file.
